Category Archives: Winter Birding

Birding the Mexican Border

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Listen to our interview with Sarah Aronson on Montana NPR’s “The Write Question” which aired Thursday, March 7!

Last week, Braden and I had the opportunity to attend the San Diego Bird Festival and do some of the most intense—and fun—birding of our lives. The festival will undoubtedly fill several posts, but before it began, we wanted to do something we’d been thinking about for at least a year—bird the California/Mexico border.

The border couldn’t have provided a greater contrast between the open wetlands and scrub on the U.S. side and the bustling city of Tijuana right across “la frontera.”

Because of a missed connection, we didn’t reach San Diego until 1 p.m., but we picked up our rental car and made a beeline down I-5 toward Tijuana. Our destination was the actual spot where the border meets the Pacific Ocean, and we weren’t sure how close we could drive. We ended up in a parking lot about a mile east and north of our destination and began trekking along a dirt road heading toward the ocean. It was a surreal experience as helicopters circled overhead—Navy fliers, evidently, training for duty—and the city of Tijuana pulsed just beyond the formidable border wall a mile to the south. Around us, though, stretched intertidal wetlands and fields, where we picked up Savannah Sparrows and meadowlarks and collected a number of duck species and a lone Eared Grebe.

This group of 500 Surf Scoters delighted us—especially when Braden identified a Black Scoter among them! Note Mexico’s Coronado Islands in the background—an important nesting site for Scripps’s Murrelets.

After hitting the beach, we headed south, the border fence looming in the distance. Almost immediately, we got a great surprise—a group of 500 or so Surf Scoters floating just offshore. For we Montana boys, this was a true delight—made even more so when Braden discovered a Black Scoter in one of his photos! We were hoping to go all the way to the fence and talk to some folks on the Mexico side, but a stoic Border Patrol agent shooed us back.

The two Heermann’s Gulls on top of these dolphins were vaunted additions to our Mexico list!

Undaunted, Braden said, “Let’s start a Mexico list,” so we spent half an hour watching birds perching on the border fence and flying between nations—without passports! President Trump would have been furious. In all, we tallied seven Mexico species: Rock Pigeon, Willet, Heermann’s Gull, Western Gull, Ring-billed Gull, European Starling, and a lone Willet sitting on the fence. Oh yeah, and a group of twenty Surf Scoters who had drifted across the border without a care in the world!

Next Up: San Diego Big Day #1!

These Willets weren’t the only birds who totally ignored our artificial geopolitical boundary. Go Willets!

Nick the Owl Finder Strikes Again!

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When you’re a birder, nothing ever goes according to plan. For example, if you slog through a draw to find a Long-eared Owl, you’re more likely to see a flock of Bohemian Waxwings, or your state’s first record of a Red-flanked Bluetail, or a moose, or anything that is not a Long-eared Owl.

The plan on Sunday, February 10^th was to sleep in. Instead, my dad shook me awake at seven in the morning (which I guess is technically sleeping in, but still).

“Nick found a Great Gray and a Barred at Maclay Flats! We have to go!”

Only an owl can get me out of bed early on a weekend!

I groaned and rolled out of bed, and within minutes we rumbled down the road in my dad’s Forerunner, dodging the potholes who tried to swallow us. The plan was to go the speed limit, but as I said earlier, things never go according to plan.

We reached Maclay in record time, and I texted Nick, asking for details. He responded quickly, providing great photos of both owls, and we trekked through the snow-blanketed forest, accompanied only by the occasional chirps of Red Crossbills flying over. As we passed the fields where we had spotted the Northern Pygmy-Owls two years prior, we scanned the bare trees. Nothing.

Then we hit the huge field in the center of Maclay, where Nick had said the Great Gray was hunting. We followed a trail of footsteps around the edge of it, running into another man that my dad knew, and we asked him if he’d had any luck.

When owls prove hard to find, Red-breasted Nuthatches provide entertaining diversion.

“None yet—but I’ve seen owls here before.”

“You heard about the Great Gray and the Barred here, though, right?”

“What? No, I just came out here today.”

Soon, we spotted two other birders on the edge of the field ahead of us, pointing cameras at the top of a Ponderosa.

“That’s a good sign,” said my dad.

We quickened our pace towards them, and I suddenly glanced up to see something I hadn’t seen in four years: a Great Gray Owl. The magnificent predator of the night’s eyes glowed with yellow fire, staring down at all of the peasants who had dared enter its domain. It wasn’t quite as large as I remembered, but then again it perched high on a pine bough.

Politicians spend a lifetime trying to master a Great Gray Owl’s stare!

As we snapped hundreds of photos, Nick suddenly joined us, accompanied by his stepmom and his dad, Phil.

“Nick!” I said, “How do you manage to find all these owls!?”

“Well, we came out looking for the Great Gray and just walked past the tree that the Barred was in. Do you want to see it?”

“Sure!”

Re-locating the Barred proved easier said than done. Nick had discovered the Barred in a spruce, but we trudged through deep snow, unable to find it. After half an hour, Nick finally stopped and pointed into the shaded interior of a tree. The Barred was smaller than the Great Gray, and much less active, as if trying to merge with its dark surroundings. After spending more time watching both owls, we returned to the car, tired, cold and fulfilled. Things definitely hadn’t gone according to plan!

“Just let me sleep!” this Barred was probably thinking, but he didn’t budge from his cozy roost.

San Antonio Botanic Garden: Messier is Betterer

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As I recounted last week, I had the recent good fortune to speak at the TCTELA conference in San Antonio. Additional good fortune? My flight home didn’t leave until Monday evening, leaving an entire day to bird. My initial plan was to visit the Mitchell Lake Audubon Center, but naturally the center is closed on Mondays, so I instead opted for the San Antonio Botanical Garden.

Hard to get tired of Inca Doves, especially when they never come close to Montana!

Taking my very first Uber ride (worked like a charm), I arrived almost at opening time and proceeded to feel my way through the garden’s 38 acres. The birds were active and I immediately found Northern Mockingbirds, American Goldfinches, Northern Cardinals, and the especially raucous Blue Jays among other common species. My main targets of the day were Ladder-backed and Golden-fronted Woodpeckers, as they’d both shown up on recent eBird checklists, but neither those nor other extraordinary species showed themselves. . . that is, until I wandered into a small, unkempt part of the grounds near the back.

I was delighted to find this guy trying to stay undercover in the Garden’s “messier” reaches!

With my hearing aids in, I detected the regular contact chip of what I guessed was some kind of warbler and, sure enough, I soon spotted a Yellow-rumped. I also saw another tiny bird dive into a bush, but failed to get a good look. “Just stand for a minute and be patient,” I told myself. Sure enough, the mystery bird flew into a closer bush and, even better, I got my binocs focused on it. I didn’t recognize the markings at first, except that I knew it was not a warbler. Then, I saw the distinct pale eye of a White-eyed Vireo. Whoo-hoo! And if that wasn’t enough, moments later, I spotted the furtive brown figure of a Long-billed Thrasher! Now, we were gettin’ somewhere!

Exploring more, I discovered Inca Doves, Red-shouldered Hawks, and Black Vultures, but after a lunch break, bird activity took a nosedive along with my birding enthusiasm. Before summoning another Uber, however, I decided to return to the same unkempt spot as before. Jackpot! There, I picked up more Yellow-rumpeds, an Orange-crowned Warbler, and a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher. But who was making those annoying cheeps, sometimes punctuated by a loud rising and falling call”? I followed the sounds for more than ten minutes. Finally, I spotted a gray bird with brownish wings and a vivid mustard breast on a branch.

The distinctive call of “Beer!” finally led me to this stunning Couch’s Kingbird.

Right away, I knew it was a king bird, but which kind? A quick look at the eBird checklist pointed to Couch’s Kingbird, which I confirmed by listening to its “Beer!” call on my phone.

I left the garden without my coveted woodpeckers, but feeling pretty good about the birds I’d been able to find. The day also reinforced a lesson for botanical gardens and yards alike: for birds, messier is betterer!

Winter Birding in Atlanta’s Surprising Piedmont Park

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When we were invited to my brother’s wedding in Atlanta, Braden and I immediately began wondering which birds we might encounter in the “Dogwood City” in mid-January. Our first morning there, we determined to find out by taking a loop around Piedmont Park in the company of our good friend—and famous “Hidden Figures” movie extra—Erica Brown. Almost immediately, the birds came out to meet us!

Sneed and Braden trying to track down a Carolina Wren in some brush at Piedmont Park. (Photo by Erica Brown)

Making a loop to the north from the parking lot, we soon found common hoped-for Northern Cardinals, Blue Jays, and Carolina Chickadees, but then surprised a gorgeous Red-shouldered Hawk lurking along the stream bed. The birds only got better from there.

This Red-shouldered was a real delight—and proof that a thriving bird community can exist in the heart of an urban environment. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Continuing north, we picked up Tufted Titmouse, Ruby-crowned Kinglets, Carolina Wrens, Eastern Phoebes, and to my delight, a Golden-crowned Kinglet, which I was especially glad to see because my crummy hearing doesn’t allow me to find these by sound. Looping back on the far side of the park, I began wondering where the woodpeckers might be when I spotted a small candidate in a tree. “There’s a Downy,” I pointed to Braden. “I see it,” he said, “but that’s not a Downy. It’s a Yellow-bellied Sapsucker!” “Huh?” Turns out, we’d been looking at different birds!

We never get tired of watching phoebes—especially one that we rarely get to see, the Eastern Phoebe. (Photo by Braden Collard)

Our real jackpot turned out to be a large, muddy puddle next to some dead grasses. There, we picked up Swamp, Chipping, Song, and White-throated Sparrows, Eastern Towhees, and my favorite, a pair of Brown Thrashers. All told, we bagged 28 species, far exceeding our wintry expectations. Better yet, Braden scored three Lifers: Eastern Towhee, Swamp Sparrow, and Yellow-bellied Sapsucker!

This Eastern Towhee proved a Lifer for both of us! (Photo by Braden Collard)

As a bonus, that night, we got to visit with the wonderful folks of Atlanta Audubon at my book signing with A Cappella Books, held at Brickworks Gallery. What a fun group! The welcoming people—and welcoming birds—left only one burning question: what could “Hot’lanta” possibly be like during spring migration? One day, we hope to find out!

Next Post: another urban birding report from my upcoming trip to San Antonio for the TCTELA Conference.

Need Winter Birds? Go Skiing!

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At 6:50 a.m. on January 4, my family awoke and piled into our minivan, looking forward to the white slopes of Discovery Ski Resort near Philipsburg. After picking up my friend Eli, we took off, driving southeast towards the resort and Georgetown Lake, which coincidentally abounded with rare and spectacular birds in winter. During the CBC the week before, Gary Swant informed us that he had spotted both Great Gray Owls and Boreal Owls in the area. So, of course, before we quite arrived at Discovery, we took a short drive along a logging road running through the pine forest above the frozen lake.

Five minutes in, my dad saw birds perched on the road ahead of us, and hit the brakes. We guessed they had to be something interesting. The first two, which turned out to be Mountain Chickadees, flew away as soon as I got out of the car, but the third, a bigger passerine with a heftier beak stayed and allowed us good looks—it was a Pine Grosbeak! In the past week we had ticked off countless nemesis birds (including a Merlin in downtown Missoula on the 3^rd) and this bird proved no exception!

We arrived at Discovery, where no line awaited us, and proceeded to tackle the slopes. The fact that we lived in Montana did not mean we excelled at skiing, so we mostly stuck to the green circle (easy) and blue square (intermediate) runs, though Eli, Tessa and I did try out a very short black diamond (advanced).

At about one o’ clock, we scarfed down a quick lunch, then ran outside equipped with my camera, binoculars, lunch rolls and a bag of birdseed. Two years ago, we learned that the birds around the ski area took full nutritional advantage of their human visitors, and that the resident Mountain Chickadees actually had been trained to feed out of people’s hands! We cast bits of bread on the ground, then took turns holding birdseed out towards the stands of trees around the parking lot. Sure enough, the birds found us, and we each got to feel the tiny, reptilian-esque feet of the chickadees as they alighted on our fingers and snatched up sunflower seeds.

Nothing helps one understand the nature of “being bird” quite like having a Mountain Chickadee land on your fingertips!

Meanwhile, Gray Jays (now known as Canada Jays), Clark’s Nutcrackers and Steller’s Jays pounced on the rolls we purchased from the lodge, the braver ones landing within a meter of our feet. To top that off, we even discovered a big flock of Pine Grosbeaks flying around above us, the males’ robin-like songs weaving through the air.

Alas, this trip prioritized skiing over birding, so we had to leave the feeding fest behind. After racing down a few more runs, we packed up and drove home, with great photos and a new Life Bird under our belts, and more importantly, an unforgettable memory.